Page 7 of Beyond Her Manner
“Shall we get these boxes loaded then?” Bridget suggested.
“I’ll make a start. Would you mind rounding up Agatha?” Gillian asked, picking up a cat box. “I get the feeling she might be more cooperative with you.”
Bridget took the box with a chuckle and disappeared into the drawing room. By the time she reappeared, Gillian was emerging from the porch, tying a scarf around her neck.
“That was more difficult than I expected,” Bridget said, her face flushed.
“Did you tryaskingher?” Gillian smirked, picking up the last box from inside the great hall.
“I did, but I don’t think she wants to leave.”
A wave of nausea hit Gillian again. “That makes two of us.”
Her eyes swept the hall one last time, a flicker of sadness crossing her face as she took in the familiar space. Swallowing her emotions, she walked to the front door, stepping outside with Bridget following silently at her heels. She closed the large, wooden door behind them, turned the key in the lock, and took a step back.
Looking above the door at the coat of arms chiselled into the stone, she wiped a tear from her eye. It might not have been herancestral home, but she’d lived and breathed as a Carmichael for most of her life. The ties to this place coursed through her blood probably more deeply than they ever did through Jonathon’s. He had taken it for granted; it was natural when you grew up with it, and few knew the real pain of poverty.
Her stomach knotted as memories surfaced of a time before Kingsford. She couldn’t return to that life; she wouldn’t. She’d come too far. The knot tightened as her thoughts shifted to the future. Without land or wealth, who was she?
Bridget’s hand lightly gripped her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts.
Grateful for the support, Gillian gave it a tap. “I won’t breathe easy until I get it back, Bridget.”
“Don’t rest everything on that hope. Try and see this as a fresh start.”
“It’s not a hope.”
“Look to the future, not the past, eh?” Bridget encouraged.
“What if the futureisthe past?”
“The future is never the past.”
“Hmm.” Gillian turned on her heel, in disagreement with her friend. The past was always in the future; it followed you everywhere, serving as a constant reminder of everything you would rather forget.
They headed for her trusty old beaten-up Land Rover Defender. It didn’t quite carry the look of Jonathon’s new Range Rover, which had been repossessed. Discovering it wasn’t even hers and had been bought through a hire purchase agreement was another little surprise she’d been gifted by Jonathon from beyond the grave.
Thankfully the old Defender carried the same sense of class, if not more. It didn’t have all the modern conveniences, but in a way, she preferred it. This one was a symbol of old moneywhile the other represented new wealth — and there was nothing ghastlier than that.
Bridget climbed into the passenger seat beside her, lifting the cat box with little grace onto her lap. An angry meow came from within.
“Sorry, Agatha.”
Gillian watched Kingsford Manor become smaller in the rearview mirror as she drove away, and she brought the vehicle to a stop just before the estate gates. Putting on the handbrake, she turned off the engine and stepped down from the Land Rover, taking in the small, one-bedroomed Georgian lodge.
“I must say, it was an awfully good idea of Walter’s for you to move in here,” Bridget remarked, joining her outside the vehicle, still clutching the cat box.
“It didn’t sit easy to begin with, I can tell you. Separating the estate wasn’t ideal. If I couldn’t afford to keep it all, though, I could at least avoid selling everything.”
Looking back down the drive to Kingsford Manor, she smiled. This lodge would do for now. She would be able to keep an eye on the new owner and do what she needed to keep it safe until she could work out a way to get it back.
CHAPTER 3
TWO MONTHS LATER
“This is simply ridiculous!” Gillian griped as she entered the small entrance hall of Kingsford Lodge.
“He says you don’t have a say because you aren’t on the church committee anymore,” Bridget replied, closing the front door behind her.
